


Mother Wolf

by myriddin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catelyn Stark Is Alive, Family Reunions, Mother-Daughter Relationship, and she's ready to kick ass and take names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriddin/pseuds/myriddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the valar_kinkmeme. Catelyn doesn't die at the Red Wedding and rescues Sansa from Petyr and Lysa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother Wolf

"M-mother?!" Sansa could scarcely believe her eyes, feeling the familiar prick of tears as she began to tremble.  
  
"Sansa, sweetling." If the figure before her was merely a phantom of her mind, it was a kind one, for that tender, loving expression on Catelyn's face melting something inside her she hadn't realized had frozen over the moment Joffrey had taken her father's head.  
  
Warm, achingly familiar arms wrapped around her, coaxing her to rest her head against the softness of her mother's breast. She could feel Catelyn's steady heartbeat beneath cheek, the comforting scent enveloping her as surely as her mother's embrace did. If this was a dream, Sansa never wanted to wake up. She began to sob.  
  
Catelyn cradled her beloved girl close, pressing kisses to her temple and brow. "Hush, my darling. My sweet babe. Mother is here now. All will be well."  
  
Even as she slowly calmed, Sansa nestled closer, refusing to let go, reminding Catelyn of the time her daughter was small and still suckled at her breast, how her sweet girl would curl up and cling even after she'd had her fill, not wanting to be parted from her mother's warmth. Much the way Catelyn could not deny her then, the lady had no intentions of denying her child now.  
  
Over Sansa's auburn head, she met the steely eyes of her Uncle Brynden, a silent, protective sentinel in the corner. "Take them," she mouthed, lips curling into a sneer, eyes turning cold as winter itself at the thought of the perpetrators against her beloved daughter.  
  
Brynden nodded, impassive face showing no signs of passing judgment or censure. Instead, there was a gleam in his eyes that had Catelyn wondered if Petyr Baelish would truly be in one piece between Brynden and his men pulling the weasel from his bed and throwing him in a sky cell.  
  
Seven help her sister if Lysa had ever aided her traitorous husband in any way. Kin-slaying or not, if she found out Lysa had touched one hair on her child's head, Catelyn herself would push her through that wretched Moon Door her sickly son was so fond of.  
  
For now, she settled for guiding her daughter to the chamber's bed, curling herself protectively around Sansa as the girl slowly relaxed into sleep, a soft sigh falling from her lips as she cuddled close.  
  
How stupid they all were to forget, Catelyn thought as she stroked Sansa's hair and hummed a lullaby of more peaceful times, that Catelyn had carried five little wolves within her, sheltered them beneath her heart, gave them life and breath as she brought them into the world. She was a mother of wolves, and a she-wolf was never more vicious than when her young were threatened.


End file.
